


Hold Me Close and Get Me Home

by ohthedrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, M/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:42:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthedrarry/pseuds/ohthedrarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry and draco are sent on a mission to find the last of the death eaters. it doesn’t go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me Close and Get Me Home

Draco knew going in that the Ministry had sent he and Harry on a suicide mission. “Find the last of the Death Eaters,” they said. “It’ll be fine,” they said. “Just bring them in or kill them,” they said.

What the ministry hadn’t said was that there were five of them hiding in an old, abandoned mansion, simply waiting for himself and Harry to make an appearance. Harry had defeated their Lord; they were out for revenge.

“How the bloody hell are we supposed to get out of here?” Draco asked, staring wildly around the lower level of the mansion. Everywhere he turned there were brilliant flames, licking up tapestries and curtains; engulfing furniture; gnawing through floorboards and drywall. Harry’s eyes were wild, the orange tinge of firelight dancing in his nearly fully-blown pupils. He was scared. 

Something cold shot up Draco’s spine at the realization. Harry -  _his Harry_  - didn’t get scared.

“Harry-”

“Get behind me,” Harry ordered, whipping around. A hooded figure appeared in the doorway, framed by smoke and ash. It was becoming difficult to breathe; Draco’s head was beginning to spin. 

“Look at what we have here,” the man drawled. He sounded bored and amused at the same time; like a cat toying with a mouse. “Malfoy’s boy and the Chosen One. How cute. Does Daddy know?”

“Shove off,” Draco tried to sound strong but he was sure his grip on Harry’s shirt was going to rip the fabric. His knuckles burned with the pressure of it. “At least I’ve chosen something worth fighting for.”

“And what’s that? Love?” the man howled, his eyes flashing wildly. Draco’s blood ran cold as he lifted his wand. “We’ll see how far love gets you tonight.”

Time seemed to slow down as Harry turned in Draco’s arms to face him. His hands fell to Harry’s waist out of habit, but his hold was stronger than usual. Draco knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the end; they were going to die there, in that burning mansion. There would be nothing left of them.

“Do you know what saved me that night, when Voldemort killed my parents?”

Draco shook his head no. Harry never talked about it, and he’d never wanted to pry. Speaking about everything before and during the war was hard; Harry hardly spoke of his parents. That night was never mentioned. Hinted at, sure, but never spoken about until then.

“Love,” Harry whispered, pulling Draco to him. He kissed him deeply, as if his life depended on it. 

_Avada Kedavra!_

Green light illuminated the room and Harry’s body jerked in Draco’s arms.

“Potter!” he hissed, gripping at his lover’s shoulders. He hadn’t meant to bring out the last name; it was something he saved for special occasions when Harry’s shenanigans went too far. And this was going way too far. “Don’t you do this to me, I swear to-”

Harry’s eyes glazed over and his body went limp. Draco’s heart pounded in his chest and he looked from Harry’s blank face to the Death Eater in front of him. Beneath the skull mask was the hint of a smirk; the look of a man who got off on killing innocent lives and destroying anything touched by love.

“Still think love is worth fighting for, Malfoy?” he sneered. A section of the roof in the room to their left caved in, collapsing into a pile of wooden beams and flame.

Something surged through his veins that he’d never felt before. Draco was  _angry_. This man knew nothing of love and how it changed a person. Before Harry came into his life Draco had been a lonely soul, searching for approval from his father while fighting his own demons born from years of being told to act the part of a pureblood. He was forced to cast away everything human and become something of a robot.

“Yes,” he gripped Harry’s body closer to his chest. Supporting Harry’s weight with one arm he held up his wand. He wasn’t scared. His father and mother had long since gone into hiding; he had no siblings and few friends. Without Harry -  _his Harry_  - he was alone. But he was protected. He didn’t know how he knew. It was like he could feel the energy radiating through his skin, just beneath the surface. “I do.”

“You’re a silly little child,” the Death Eater responded. Draco shook his head. 

“No,” he answered. “I am a man. A man who has had the one thing he loved taken from him. And you will pay for stealing it.”

He raised his his wand and remembered the spell that felt as if it was ripping his skin to pieces. He remembered the feeling of it; such a terrible way to die.

“Sectumsempra!”

The man’s body jerked as blood began to seep into his clothes. He gripped at his chest and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Just as he tried to sit up another section of the roof collapsed right on top of him. His screams filled the entirety of the mansion.

Draco looked wildly around. Vision was nearly impossible, and his lungs were screaming from the smoke that filled them. He gripped Harry’s shirt tighter than he had just moments before, like his life depended on it. His eyes stung but he could not tell if it was from the smoke or tears.

“I’m going to get us home,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to Harry’s neck. “I’ll always get us home.”

With a flash he disapparrated from the burning mansion, not caring if any of the other Death Eaters had been killed or escaped. All that mattered was getting Harry home.

 

* * *

 

 

The funeral was held three days later. It was a small service, with only close friends and colleagues in attendance. Hermione didn’t stop crying once; Ron sent more than a few blaming looks in Draco’s direction. George and Ginny were the only two who didn’t seem to completely blame him for Harry’s death. Arthur blamed the Ministry for only sending two fairly knew aurors to handle such a mission, and Molly blamed herself.

“You’ll always have a home with us, dear,” she told him after it was all over. “and I mean it. Holidays, weekdays, every day - it’s all yours.”

“Thank you Mrs. Weasley,” Draco had allowed her to take his hands in hers. 

“Molly,” she corrected with a small smile. Her eyes were rimmed with tears and bloodshot. Draco could only imagine what his looked like. 

“Molly,” he offered her a small smile in return. It was painful, to smile. Smiling without Harry to smile in return was unreal. Draco didn’t think even in his worst nightmare that he’d ever have to do it again. He’d thought his days of faking his way through the day were over. “But I think I’ll stay at Grimuald Place. Harry would throw a fit if someone didn’t keep it in order.”

“I want Draco!” a small voice squeaked from off to his left. He turned to see a four year old Teddy struggling to get out of Ginny’s arms. He chuckled a little, which lead to him sniffling.

“Come here, kiddo,” he reached out his arms and pressed the child close to his chest. He balanced him easily on his hip. 

“Is Harry real gone?” the boy asked, staring up at him with wide eyes. Draco had to fight to swallow past the lump in his throat. 

“Yes,” he replied. Teddy frowned and then shook his head. 

“But, he told me that dead don’t really go,” he argued, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re still here, someplace.”

That was one of Harry’s favorite sayings, and Draco had often heard him tell it to any number of people in the time after the war. He’d always thought it a foolish idea. Those who were dead were quite gone, in the most finite sense of the word. Harry - his Harry - was never coming back.

“Can I help look for him?” Teddy spoke again when Draco didn’t answer him right away. 

“You know,” Molly began slowly, carefully choosing her words. “Teddy’s quite fond of you, and Grimuald Place is awfully big… it can get quite lonely there sometimes.”

“I don’t think that’s-”

“Don’t be silly, Ron,” Hermione cut him off, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “I think it’s a fantastic idea.”

“You want him to come live with me? Like, I’ll be in charge of him and stuff?”

The idea was completely absurd, but at the same time it was exactly what Draco wanted. He just hadn’t realized it until then.

“Can I?” Teddy’s eyes widened in excitement. “We can make blanket forts every night, and wait for Harry to come back!”

Draco felt the urge to cry all over again. It surged up from his chest like a tidal wave and he had to choke back tears. He so desperately wished he could see the world as Teddy did - through the eyes of an innocent child.

“I wouldn’t want to spend our nights any other way,” Draco replied, pulling Teddy close to him in a tight hug. The child sighed happily, moving his arms to wrap them around Draco’s neck. Together, Draco, Hermione, the Weasleys, Hagrid, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, and a number of other students whose names escaped Draco, left the cemetery. He glanced back over his shoulder at the newest gravestone, a few feet to the left of Lily and James Potter. His heart swelled. 

 _I’ll come home, Harry_ , he promised with every ounce of his tormented soul.  _I’ll always come home._

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are amazing! please let me know what you thought of this fic!
> 
> please check out my tumblr: draqo-pctter.tumblr.com


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